


Fanciful Took

by LeeMorrigan



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Bilbo gets a cousin, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, F/M, Gandalf loves hobbits, Gen, No beta we die like Men of the West, Sorry we're not doing depressing endings today, The Line of Durin endures, Thorin gets some love, Tolkien, Took - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeMorrigan/pseuds/LeeMorrigan
Summary: Bilbo, and his cousin Belle Took, are going on an adventure. Along the way with a Company of Dwarves and a Wandering Wizard, they will face orcs, goblins, trolls, elves, men, and at long last, a dragon.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Gandalf | Mithrandir, Bilbo Baggins & Original Female Character(s), Gandalf | Mithrandir & Original Female Character(s), Gandalf | Mithrandir & Thorin Oakenshield, Thorin Oakenshield & Bilbo Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Fanciful Took

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, world, or other bits created by the brilliant J.R.R. Tolkien, I'm just playing in his sandbox cause I do love his characters and the world they inhabit.
> 
> Notes: As a kid watching the cartoon of THE HOBBIT and reading the book, I never cared for Bilbo but always loved Thorin, his nephews, and Gandalf. I grew up and watched the Peter Jackson film, where I still loved Thorin, his nephews, and Gandalf, and like Bilbo, I grew to love the dwarves overall for they are brave, kind, and loyal to a fault.
> 
> Triggers: Honestly, if you got through the movies you should be fine. Discussions of dreams one might have after listening to the MISTY MOUNTAIN SONG (cast version) and hearing the stories of Smaug.

Belle Took looked around the Shire with a smile on her face. This was nothing new. She had always greeted the Shire with a smile. This was her home and full of nearly all her favorite people.

Stepping into the familiar green door at Bag End, she called out to one of her particular favorite people.

“BILBO?”

She heard something slam, or perhaps fall, followed by a hiss. Belle cringed. Bilbo must have dropped something on himself. Or she made him mess up a map he was working on.

“Belle?”

He came around the corner, a bit of ink staining two of his fingers. He had been writing again. Probably another chronicle of the Baggins family. Goodness knew he wouldn’t write something to boast about the Took line.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were coming by at dinner time?”

Belle pointed out the window.

“Cousin, in case you’ve been locked away in your study again, it is dinner time. I’m actually a little late, I thought you might have gone down without me.”

“Of course not. Give me a moment to wipe some of this ink off, and I’ll be along directly.”

She nodded, then moved out to borrow her cousin’s bench. He had the best view of the Shire from the little seat at Bag End. The little cushion held the scent of Longbottom leaf and crisp linen. Her own bench, at her house near the river, probably smelled like apples and tea.

“Have you heard this rumour about a wondering, gray figure out in the woods?”, Bilbo asked as he came up to stand next to the bench.

“No. Why?”, Belle asked as she stood to join her cousin for a walk down to visit their Brandybuck cousins for a special birthday dinner for Lilly Brandybuck.

“Old Gaffer came by, and was talking about it. Seems some of the folk out at the edge of the Shire, are a bit worried who this figure is and what he might want. I know you live alone, a good way from your nearest neighbor.”

“That’s probably why I don’t hear these rumours. I live too far away to hear the whispers.”, she teased.

Bilbo frowned at her. He was always frowning these days. Growing up had done him no favours, she was convinced.

“Belle! I’m worried about you. Perhaps you should come stay at Bag End for a few days, just until this gray wanderer moves on.”

“I’ll be fine. If he bothers me, I’ll beat him back with a skillet.”

“What if he threatens you with a sword?”

“I’ll throw the skillet. You ought to remember how dangerous my aim is.”

Bilbo rubbed the back of his head. Many years ago, he and another Took had hidden away, making noises to scare Belle as the sun was setting. Bilbo made a noise from behind a bush and Belle had thrown a rock that split the back of Bilbo’s head open badly enough that Belle had been sure he would die and her aunt Belladonna would kill her.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t fight a brigand with a frying pan.”

“You worry too much, cousin. Come. We need to get some good food and a half pint or two in you, and maybe I’ll get you to dance before we head home.”

“Not likely.”

Belle grinned over at her cousin.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Gandalf hurried down the steps from Bag End, growing a bit mentally over the changes in Belladonna Took’s son, while smiling at the thought of taking the armchair daydreamer out into a real adventure. The world was vast beyond the borders of the Shire.

“Good morning!”

Gandalf looked up to see a face he knew but could not put name to. Bright green eyes, wavy hair the color of well-tanned leather, pale and tall for a hobbit, dressed in a faded blue skirt, pale green shirt, and a gray vest. She had to have been a Fallohide Hobbit, to be so tall. In the Shire, that made her a Brandybuck or a Took.

“It is a good morning.”, answered Gandalf.

“Were you here to visit Bilbo?”

“Yes. Yes, indeed I was. And you?”

“I forgot my book here last night after dinner.”, she said before tilting her head and looking at Gandalf strangely.

“Have you been floating around the woods, outside the Shire, of late, Mister… Oh, I don’t know your name.”

“I have been wandering the woods for two days. It had been so long since I traveled these paths that I had forgotten the way up to Bag End. I haven’t visited since Bilbo was a wee one, when I came to see Belladonna.”

The young hobbit’s eyes went wide and her smile brightened, if that was possible.

“GANDALF! That is why you are familiar- you used to let off those brilliant whiz-poppers on mid-summer’s eve, for old Took!”

“Well, at least you remembered my name unprompted. Bilbo remembered only my fireworks.”

The young hobbit nodded, looking somewhere between irritated and resigned.

“Forgive an old man, my dear, but I do not recall your name?”

Her smile returned in full force.

“Belle Took. My father was Belladonna’s baby brother.”

“Ah, yes, now I see it. You have his eyes and his height.”

She nodded enthusiastically. Yes. She was a Took for sure. The exuberance could only have come from a Took.

“Are you not staying in the Shire for long, Mr.Gandalf?”

“Ah, no mister, just Gandalf. I am not staying, though I will return very soon.”

She nodded.

“I hope to see you when you do. If you wish, or if my cousin isn’t as hospitable as he ought to be, you can come to supper or tea with me down by the river. Little stone house under a big oak tree, blue door.”

“I may take you up on that, my dear.”

“You do that. Have a good, safe journey until you return then, Gandalf.”

He smiled back at the young hobbitess.

“One can only hope so, my dear. Good morning.”

As he passed her, letting her go up the stair to Bag End while he made his way back out of the Shire, Gandalf continued to smile. Little Belle Took. When last he had been in the Shire, she had been practically a newborn all tucked in a blanket, in her mother’s arms. She had grown to be quite the cheerful, outgoing young woman.

Gandalf wondered if she would be interested to join the Company on their quest. And if she was, how Thorin and the dwarves would react. Bilbo would likely try to talk her out of it and throw some kind of fit, given the abstinent stick in the mud he had become as an adult. He also wondered how he would explain her coming. Bilbo was to be their burglar. Belle would have no role, unless Gandalf said she was to be Bilbo’s assistant burglar.

It was settled. Bilbo and Belle were a pair of burglars who worked together. Any dwarf who took issue with it, would answer directly to Gandalf. He would settle it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bilbo wanted to scream. Throw things. Possibly commit violence.

These blasted dwarves had eaten him out of house and home! And all the while, gleefully thrown food, walked over tables, belched loud enough to be heard in Bree, spilled ale on the floorboards, tossed his blue cheese, and were now singing loudly while tossing his mother’s flatware. He was going to have some kind of fit, he was sure.

Gandalf had invited them all and was going along with their revels as if this were some sort of tea party. Bilbo was not amused. Not even in the slightest.

Bilbo barely heard a slight knocking at his door over the noise of the Dwarves’ singing. He was sure it would be another bunch of dwarves, perhaps a bunch of ragged men also in need of a ton of food and drink, claiming to be guests of Gandalf. Bilbo swung the door back to reveal his cousin.

“Belle? What are you doing here?”

“Gandalf slipped a note in my box that you were having a party. You haven’t thrown a party since we were children, and then the menu was cakes your mum baked and tea my mum sent.”

“I am still not throwing parties.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“Then why did you come?”, he asked in genuine confusion.

She shrugged with a slightly sad look in her eyes.

“I hoped maybe Gandalf had brought back the old Bilbo I grew up with.”

She stepped past Bilbo before he could warn her, and she was soon met by Fili, Nori, and Bofur. The three Dwarves all gave small bows and greeted her with smiles, further irking Bilbo. He did _not_ want any of these scruffy, ill-mannered dwarves taking any sort of shine to his dear cousin.

“Hello.”, she greeted in return.

“And who are you, lass?”, Bofur asked.

“Belle Took, I’m Bilbo’s cousin.”

“Ah, the Partner Burglar!”, Fili explained to the others, who nodded in response.

Belle looked over at Bilbo in confusion. He shrugged, having no answers to give. He was just as confused about whatever was going on as Belle appeared to be.

Fili ushered them into the kitchen. Bilbo wanted to grin a bit, if these dwarves thought Belle would now wash the dishes from the mess they made of his home, they were in for something else. Likely a dirty skillet putting dents in their thick skulls.

The blond dwarf stepped aside with a great smile and gestured to the table. Bilbo sputtered at what he saw. Stacks of clean, dried plates without a single scratch or chip in them. Even the cutlery was spotless and waiting to be put away.

The dwarves all laughed and smiled, seemingly quite amused at Bilbo’s dumbstruck expression. Even Gandalf was grinning around his pipe. Belle chuckled lightly as she moved over to the tea pot.

A booming knock interrupted the cheer. The dwarves all went silent and seemed to sit up as if expecting a scolding from their mothers about their manners. Gandalf turned to Bilbo and with a grave tone, answered the unasked question.

“He’s here.”

The dwarves, Gandalf, and Belle followed Bilbo to the door. He pulled it open to reveal a dwarf. But this dwarf was as tall as the first one who had arrived, with a thick mane of black hair with ribbons of gray in it, piercing eyes, and the bearing of a royal or great general perhaps. Bilbo knew he instantly felt nine inches tall and as if he were a bug.

“Gandalf.”, came the deep voice of the tall dwarf.

Bilbo stepped back to let the man in.

“I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I would not have found it at all, if it had not been for that mark on the door.”, he said as he began removing his cloak.

“MARK! There’s no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!”

Gandalf quickly moved to close the door behind himself as he looked back to those assembled in Bilbo’s entry.

“There is a mark, I put it there myself.”, he said before moving to make introductions.

“Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Bilbo looked back at the tall dwarf. The name tickled his memory though he could not place how or why he knew of this Oakenshield. For his part, the tall dwarf seemed amused as he stood so tall and looked down at Bilbo.

“So, this is the hobbit.”, Thorin said as he drew closer.

He began to circle Bilbo, taking stock or perhaps making sport of the hobbit as he put a light interrogation to Bilbo, in his own house.

“Tell me, Mr.Baggins, have you done much fighting?”

“Pardon me?”

“Pikes or sword? What’s your weapon of choice?”

“Well, I do have some skill at concurs, if you must know. But I fail to see why that is relevant.”, he said as Belle could see her cousin trying to make himself stand at his full, unimpressive height.

She was peering over the shoulder of a dwarf in a funny hat with his pipe in hand, a couple rows deep from where a bald-headed dwarf and the blond dwarf watched Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo. The dark-haired dwarf seemed rather amused by her cousin’s answer.

“I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.”

Several of the dwarves chuckled at the comment. Belle was a bit annoyed, even if she agreed. While the dwarves all lead Thorin away, Gandalf stayed back with Bilbo and Belle.

Belle could hear the white-haired dwarf with the great beard, putting together a meal for the latest arrival. She forced herself to look back at Gandalf and Bilbo. The old wizard seemed to sag a little as if relieved about something.

“Are you alright, Gandalf?”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips.

“Yes, my dear, do not fret.”

Bilbo looked over at her, clearly annoyed. He might have uninvited guests but they were still guests, and Belladonna Took-Baggins would have tanned Bilbo’s hide for treating any of them poorly.

“Bilbo has passed the test.”

“What test?”, cried her cousin.

Belle shook her head. She was not yet up to speed on what Gandalf had in mind, yet she was sure Bilbo was being thick. Gandalf wanted Bilbo’s help for something, and he needed the dwarves to agree to take that help from Bilbo in particular. That much Belle was certain of. Why he cousin hadn’t figured it out was the real mystery.

Reaching, Belle tugged on Bilbo’s sleeve. He shot her a look that was as confused as it was miffed.

“Come on. Let’s see to your guests.”

A few minutes later, Belle was pouring a cup of tea for Thorin while Balin was handing the tall dwarf a bowl of soup. It struck Belle as funny. These dwarves all spoke and acted of Thorin as if he were some great general or nobleman, yet they had not thought to leave him anything besides some soup, biscuits, and tea while they had eaten a variety of meats, vegetables, fruits, nuts, and pies.

The tall dwarf gave her a nod of thanks when she finished pouring, and another to Balin for the soup. He had barely gotten to take a single sip of the soup before he was set upon with questions about his journey, those he had met with, and their willingness to join the dwarves already assembled in Bilbo’s kitchen. Belle felt sorry for him as she moved back to sit beside Gandalf.

It seemed the men, lead by someone called Dane, would not help in the quest. The quest was clearly news to Bilbo. He asked of it.

“Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light.”, was Gandalf’s response.

Belle watched as Bilbo left to get another lamp and Gandalf pulled out a map, spreading it over the table near Thorin’s meager meal. Fili passed a mug of ale down to Thorin, though Belle noticed he finished the tea she offered him as Gandalf was explaining the map. She wondered if he was being nice or if he was still chilled from the cold outside and his barely touched soup hadn’t had a chance yet to bring him any warmth.

“Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single, solitary peak.”

Bilbo looked over Thorin’s shoulder, reading what was just out of Belle’s line of sight.

“The Lonely Mountain.”

“Aye. Oin has read the portents- and the portents say, it is TIME.”, said the red-headed dwarf.

“The Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountains, as it was fortold!”, added a gray-haired dwarf whom Belle had seen with a hearing horn earlier.

Turning, she was distracted by Gandalf blowing a flame off of his finger. He must have had a mishap while lighting his pipe was all that she could figure. When Gandalf noticed her look, he offered her a small smile.

“What beast?”

She looked up to see Bilbo, in the hall, looked more than a little worried.

“Ah that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age.”, offered the dwarf with the funny hat, before he put his pipe back into his mouth.

Belle and Bilbo shared a look.

“Air born fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.”

“Yes, I know what a dragon is.”, Bilbo answered curtly.

The youngest looking dwarf with a short red beard stood, shouting of his bravery when he would meet the dragon. Belle looked at the reactions of his comrades. The white-haired dwarf she had guessed might be a much-elder brother, yanked the kid back into his seat. Many of the others whispered and muttered across the table at each other.

“The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us.”, interrupted Balin, “But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest.”

That last bit seemed aimed at Thorin, though as a direct admonishment or as a statement of their lot, she was not sure.

A rumble overtook the assembled group in response to Balin’s comment. They did not seem to take kindly to it, while Thorin and the bald-headed dwarf both seemed to be measuring Balin’s word.

A hand slapped the table on the other end of the kitchen. Everyone looked to the blond haired dwarf, beside his dark-haired brother. Belle had gotten the impression they were related to Thorin, somehow.

“We may be few in number,” he said with determination, “but we’re fighters, all of us. To the last dwarf!”

The dark-haired brother started on about how Gandalf had probably slain hundreds of dragons in his time, thus starting an interrogation of Gandalf’s history with dragons. Belle could tell the history was nothing like what these dwarves were hoping for.

When Gandalf offered no answer, except to cough up smoke like a sickly dragon, a fight erupted amongst the dwarves. Several stood, most yelled, fists were shaken. Thorin flew to his feet, his voice rising to call down the others.

His outburst cowed them all down into their seats. Whatever he had said, it seemed to have the desired effect as silence overtook the room.

“If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread, the dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing. Wondering. Weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize this chance to Take Back Erabor?”

His rallying cry worked. The dwarves all cheered, seeming ready to march off into battle for this Lonely Mountain, and possibly to fight a dragon. Belle shook her head. This adventure sounded incredible. Perhaps, someday, some of these men or perhaps Gandalf, would come back and tell her all about it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Belle sat across from Bilbo as Gandalf handed him a cup of tea, following Bilbo’s fainting spell. Belle couldn’t believe it. Bilbo hadn’t fainted in years.

“I’ll be alright, just let me sit quietly for a moment.”

“You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long!”, Gandalf growled at Bilbo.

Belle looked to see Balin and Thorin, off in a hall around the corner. They likely wanted to know for sure if Bilbo was to be their burglar, or if Gandalf would have to find them another.

“Tell me, when did doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves in the woods, and stay out late, coming home after dark trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire.”

Gandalf appeared to sink a bit as he moved to another part of the room.

“The world is not in your books and maps, it’s out there.”, he gestured towards the front window that looked out over Hobbiton, and beyond.

“I can’t just go running off, into the blue. I am a Baggins, of Bag End.”

Belle could see how even Bilbo was realizing how much he sounded like his grumpy old father as he tried to refute Gandalf’s claims over Bilbo’s change of personality.

“You are also a _Took_!”

Bilbo shot Belle a look as if he expected her to help. She smirked over the rim of her own mug of tea. Bilbo might have agreed to grow up and become stuffy and responsible the way his father had desired of him, Belle had remained as carefree and adventurous as she had ever been.

She watched in amusement as Gandalf tutored Bilbo on the Took family history. It was a story they had heard many times, from Biblo’s own mother, in their childhood though Gandalf’s had an extra flourish Belle did not recall from Belladonna’s rendition.

“He swung his club so hard, it knocked the Goblin King’s head clean off! And it sailed a hundred yards, through the air, and went down a rabbit hole, and thus the battle was won- and the game of golf invented at the same time.”

Belle snorted into her tea, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing. Bilbo looked perplexed for a moment before turning to look at Gandalf.

“I do believe you made that up.”

Belle rose from her seat to get more tea as Gandalf moved to take up the spot she had just vacated. It let him sit directly across from Bilbo.

“Well all good stories deserve embellishment. You’ll have a tail or two of your own to tell, when you come back.”

“Can you promise I will come back?”

Belle allowed herself to hope Bilbo would go, if he was asking at all of the quest.

“No. And if you do, you will not be the same.”

“That’s what I thought. Sorry Gandalf, I can’t sign this. You’ve got the wrong hobbit.”

Bilbo walked off, leaving the contract unsigned on the footstool and Gandalf crushed in his chair. Belle let her forehead fall against the mantle. Why did her cousin have to be so blasted sensible?

Drifting a bit, away from the fire, Belle could hear a bit of Balin and Thorin’s conversation. Balin sounded resigned to the loss of Bilbo and taking it as a sign they should not undertake this quest. Thorin seemed less certain.

“There are a few warriors amongst us.”

“ _Old_ warriors.”

“I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills, for when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty, honor, a willing heart… I can ask no more than that.”

Belle felt a tear at the corner of one eye at his words. She was not normally struck so by words, as she was prone more to laughter and joking, than to tears and stunned silence. Yet, this dwarf’s words she could feel like a warm hearth after coming in from a winter storm.

“You don’t have to do this. You have a choice! You’ve done honourably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty, a life that is worth more than all the gold in Erabor.”

“From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erabor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me.”

“Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done.”

Balin left the hall, moving to join some of the others in the kitchen, sipping ale. Belle moved to check on Thorin, remembering that he had barely gotten to finish his small bowl of soup and his tea before Bilbo fainted and he had carried her cousin to a chair in the drawing room. When he saw her, Thorin stood a bit taller and seemed to pull up a polite expression rather than the saddened, contemplative one he wore before.

“Ms.Took?”

She smiled, waving a hand.

“It’s Belle. Would you care for another bowl of soup, or something? Compared to your men, you have barely eaten.”

“I believe we have put your cousin at our service and divested him of nearly all that was in his pantry. I can pay for the supplies we have devoured, if he will not come with us and be able to take the money out as one of the expenses of the journey.”

She chuckled a little.

“He has been settled too long, it was time someone interrupted his routine.”

“You seem… disapproving of his lifestyle.”

“Suppose I am. His mother and my father were sister and brother, and the Took family is known for being adventurous, unpredictable, fanciful, and prone to daydreaming. The Baggins, his father’s family, they were quite serious and had no thoughts of the world beyond the Shire, if they thought even that far. As children, Bilbo would sneak off with his Took cousins, and we would play our days away chasing fireflies and looking for Elves in the woods.”

Thorin smiled slightly, able to picture it. Despite the stodgy attitude Bilbo had shown so far, Thorin could still see a smaller, younger, carefree version of the hobbit, trailing behind this Belle Took, feet covered in mud, smiling bright, with his little leader cheerfully calling out to find magical creatures she thought to be hiding behind trees and rocks.

“Did you ever find any?”

Her smile widened, pinking up her full cheeks.

“Sadly, no. And as we grew up, some of us kept looking, but Bilbo… his father expected him to be a Baggins, not a Took.”

“And he grew into the role that was expected of him.”

She nodded, “He did.”

The young hobbitess looked up at Thorin, her brow scrunched a bit in thought. Thorin had noticed how tall she was for a hobbit, standing a noticeable portion higher than her cousin, and her hair was not as curly as most of the hobbits Thorin had ever seen, which was admittedly few. For a half a breath, he had wondered if she was perhaps only half of hobbit blood, the other half being of mankind.

“Mr.Oakenshield, do you suppose your company would accept another burglar?”

“Who do you have in mind?”

She shrugged with a small smile, “Me.”

Thorin thought about it. Gandalf had mentioned having a hobbit for a burglar, and his reasoning seemed sound enough to Thorin’s reckoning, yet the idea of sending a lone, female hobbit who was so young and untouched by the world, in with Smaug… Thorin could not fathom doing that. Nor could he imagine anyone in their company taking kindly to the idea. His expression must have answered Belle’s question for her.

“Forget I mentioned it, Mr.Oakenshield.”

She was gone before he could speak up. Thorin wanted to growl. This quest was not off to a very auspicious start.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bilbo saw Belle moving down to the spare room, which had been Bilbo’s childhood bedroom. She looked upset. Bilbo figured she was still mad at him because he did not want to go on the quest Gandalf intended to recruit him for.

Gandalf had told him the dwarves would stay the night in Bilbo’s drawing room, halls, and kitchen, and would leave at first light. Bilbo could hear their bootsteps moving around his house, as the evening grew still and quiet. They were likely finishing off his last keg of ale before they would retire to bed. Bilbo figured it was a good idea to turn in for the night.

As Bilbo sat to undo his suspenders, he heard a sound. A humming. The voices of several, perhaps all of the dwarves down the hall, began to harmonize in a mournful, haunting sound.

“Far over the misty mountain cold, to dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away, ere break of day, to find our long-forgotten gold. The pines were roaring along the heights. The winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread. The trees like torches, blazed with light.”

Bilbo could see it in his mind’s eye, almost able to smell the smoke and burning pines, and hear the thunder of the beast’s wings in the hot air. The dwarves, soot covered and displaced, making their way across the hills with their backs to their ancestral home. He could hear the screams of Dale and the crashing of stone in Erabor.

Down the hall, Belle also listened to the song of the dwarves. She could pick out some of the voices, particularly those of Thorin and Bofur, as the group sang of the loss of their home. The longing in their voices and the heartbreak of the images it evoked, tore at her to hear them. As quiet as a lullaby and sorrowful as a funeral dirge.

She laid back on the bed, continuing to listen as the dwarves’ song went on. From her memories of tales she heard as a child, she tried to imagine what Erabor must have looked like in the years before Smaug’s attack. Impossibly high ceilings, square-cut walkways and thronechairs for the royal family, glittering gold and gems decorating walls here and there, perhaps a distant hum of the work from the miners and craftsmen. Belle also imagined that, despite being underground and carved from the living rock, Erabor would have been warm from the forges burning constantly in it’s heart.

Such visions and impressions sent her off to sleep, where they danced in her mind’s eye, allowing her to trek through the kingdom in it’s former glory. Belle so longed to see it with her own eyes, to walk where Elvish Kings had come to talk with Dwarven ones, and to see the smiles on these Dwarves’ faces when they were once more returned to their home. They would have to fight a dragon, or hope him already deceased, in order to take back their old home and Belle greatly desired to be part of that.

Belle rose, fully awake, with the night still around her. Her mind was made up. She quickly pulled her skirt and vest back on and crept from her room.

Most of the company of dwarves were strewn about Bilbo’s house, sound asleep. The portly one with the reddish hair was snoring loudly enough to scare a horse as she passed by him, letting the timing of his snores help cover the sound of her movements. She counted and found only Gandalf and Thorin missing from the company.

Outside, the night was clear and the stars as bright as fireworks. Belle smiled, thinking of the very first fireworks she had ever seen when she was barely old enough to recall anything at all. Perhaps, when their homeland was reclaimed, the dwarves would have a party and Gandalf would let off his whiz-poppers.

She barely made it to the bottom of the steps before she noticed the gray wizard. He was seated on Bilbo’s bench, his pipe in hand, blowing smoke rings into the night. Belle smiled as she saw him.

“What brings you out, so early, Belle Took?”

There was no heat in his tone as he spoke to her. Belle smiled as she spoke in all honesty to one of her father and aunt’s oldest friends.

“I’m going home, then I’m going to pack, and I will be back at dawn to ride out with the company.”

“You mean to take an adventure of your own, young Took?”

She grinned at his teasing.

“Yes.”

“Good.”, Gandalf said with a smile, “Good.”

“Gandalf?”

He turned back to her, removing his pipe from his mouth.

“Do you think we’ll be able to change Bilbo’s mind?”

He let out a long breath, still a bit smoky from his pipe.

“I do not know. I still cling to hope.”

She nodded at the wizard.

“So do I.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bilbo woke to silence. Stillness. Sunlight shone through his window, dust floating like tiny fairies in the light.

He huffed at himself. Such a fanciful thought, fit for a Took. Bilbo stretched, then stood, slipping his day clothes on before heading out to speak with his uninvited guests.

His halls were empty. As was his drawing room and his kitchen. Aside from the pillaged pantry and the slight smell from his plumbing, he would have believed last night’s events to be a dream.

His last recollection was of the haunting song of the Lonely Mountain’s attack from Smaug, then he had dreamed of dragon fire and burning trees with smoke so thick it choked all who tried to pass through it. It had been terrible. He shook his head a bit, trying to rid it of the memory.

The contract lay, unsigned, in front of him. His walking stick was propped by the door as if waiting for him to take those first steps. Bilbo made up his mind.

Quickly, Bilbo packed what he thought he would need and signed the contract. He took off after the Company, knowing where they had intended to head towards once they left. He was going on an adventure.


End file.
